Even those with little
interest in sports generally recognize the names of such great athletes as
Tiger Woods, Venus and Serena Williams, and Arthur Ashe. But those who follow
tennis and golf more closely know the name of Althea Gibson, an athlete who
broke many barriers and made it possible for other African-Americans to follow
in her footsteps.

She was born in Silver in Clarendon
County on August 25,
1927*, the eldest of five children of a sharecropper. At the age of three,
Gibson moved north with her family to Harlem, NY.
As she grew up living in a rough neighborhood, she sometimes got into fights
with other children, both boys and girls. Tall and athletically built,
she was able to hold her own (Gibson, 10-14). The young girl loved
sports, especially basketball, but as she noted in her autobiography, “…any
kind of ball would do” (Gibson, 9). In an era when professional sports were
closed to African-Americans, Gibson grew up playing paddleball on the streets
of New York through a Police Athletic League program.
Paddleball is similar to tennis but players use a different kind of racket and
play on a smaller court. By the time she was 12, she was winning citywide
championships (Ballard).

Gibson did not like school and
skipped it as often as possible. Her father’s whippings had little impact. She
preferred to be outdoors doing something more active. In 1941 she finished
junior high and began attending the Yorkville Trade
School, where she learned to sew. She had little interest in academics. Her
friends were all at a different high school, and she began to skip classes and
even stay out all night (Gibson, 18-19). She soon dropped out of high
school altogether. Exasperated school officials agreed to let her work despite
her young age, and she held a variety of jobs over the next few years.
Eventually she lost her job and found herself enjoying her unemployment. The
Welfare Department gave her a choice. She could go to a reformatory or she
could live in some family’s home, report to them every week, and even receive
some money while she did a job search. The choice was no contest, of course.
The Welfare Department placed her in a private home, and she found herself with
time on her hands and a little bit of cash (Gibson, 22-25). During this period
Gibson began to take tennis lessons and learn the game, while living on welfare
and collecting a weekly allowance.

Gibson was a good all around
athlete, a tomboy in the parlance of the day. It had not taken long for others
to recognize her athletic abilities. Paddleball led to tennis. Blues musician
Buddy Walker, who worked for the city’s recreation program during the summer to
supplement his income, spotted her. He thought she would be a good tennis
player and encouraged her to try the game. Gibson recounted that her first time
out she played so well that she attracted an audience from among the other
players, including a teacher, Juan Serrell. Serrell belonged to the
Cosmopolitan Tennis Club, where upper-class African-Americans played. He
introduced her to the club’s tennis coach, Fred Johnson. The club members
thought she had so much potential that they purchased a membership for her. In
the summer of 1941, she began to take lessons at the Cosmopolitan Club. Although
he only had one arm, Johnson taught the young teen how to play the game. Gibson
found the hardest part of tennis was accepting the culture. Seeing how one should
dress in tennis whites and behave politely while playing as hard as possible in
order to win was difficult for her (Gibson, 27-30). She began to play as an
amateur in 1942, winning a tournament at the age of 15 and becoming the New
York State African-American girls’ singles champion. She played tennis under the
auspices of the American Tennis
Association (ATA), the organization for black players. In 1943 the
organization did not hold a national tournament, but Gibson was the girls’
singles champion in 1944 and 1945. Cosmopolitan Club members paid her expenses
so that she could travel to these events (Gibson, 31-33).

In 1945 Gibson turned 18 and
was no longer eligible for welfare benefits. She would have to become gainfully
employed. She moved in with a friend’s family and obtained a job as a waitress
to support herself, playing basketball and bowling for fun in her spare time.
Her friend, Gloria Nightingale, introduced her to boxer Sugar Ray Robinson and
his wife Edna, who became friends (Gibson, 34-36). Sugar Ray, along with a
number of Harlem businessmen, would later provide her with financial
support so that she could travel to tennis tournaments. Since she was 18,
Gibson had now moved from the girls to the women’s level in tennis
competitions. The ATA provided financial help so that she could play in the
women’s tournament in Ohio in 1946. Gibson reached the
finals, but lost the tournament. But two very special people who would have a
great influence on her life saw her play there (Gibson, 36-37).

The world probably would never
have heard of Althea Gibson if not for Dr. Hubert Eaton and Dr. Walter Johnson,
two African-American physicians who loved tennis and helped many young
African-Americans who wanted to play the game. They wanted Gibson to go to
college and play tennis, but she was a high school dropout (Gibson, 37). The
two men persuaded the 18 year old to move to Wilmington, NC and to attend high
school there. In Wilmington she lived at Dr. Eaton’s home
with his family during the school year. He coached her and taught her tennis
etiquette. She lived in Lynchburg, Virginia
with Dr. Johnson’s family during the summers, and played tennis through the
American Tennis Association, traveling to tournaments with Dr. Johnson. The two
men paid all of her expenses during this period. All of this took some
adjustment. Gibson had to learn to live with a middle class family and to obey
their rules. She also had to adjust to living in the segregated South, and to
the humiliation of having to ride in the back of a bus or sit in the balcony at
a movie theater. It was degrading, but she later noted that her fears that the
whole experience would be a “Ku Klux Klan nightmare” were never realized
(Gibson, 41-47). Although all Gibson ever wanted was the opportunity to achieve
what she could as an individual, she had firsthand knowledge of the
discrimination facing African-Americans in American society.

Gibson had made up her mind to
finish high school, so she studied and managed to complete her degree in three
years, graduating near the top of her class. However, she never did really fit
in with the other students, perhaps because she was older, perhaps because she
had grown up in the North, or perhaps because she preferred to play sports. She
became the captain of the girls’ basketball team, and played football and
baseball with the boys as often as she could. She also joined the school
marching band, playing on a saxophone that Sugar Ray Robinson had purchased for
her several years earlier. The school had no tennis team, so she had to play at
home on Dr. Eaton’s tennis court (Gibson, 48-51; 57).

American Tennis Association
(ATA) events were mostly self-contained in the 1940s and 1950s, and those who
were present mostly kept to themselves. Virginia Glass, a former ATA president,
noted in an interview that the tournaments were held on the campuses of
traditionally black colleges. ATA tournaments included a range of social events
for the participants, such as parties, card games, and even a fashion show.
Gibson’s warm-up partner, Billy Davis, remembered her outstanding serve and
volley game, stating “She just dominated everyone she played” (“Playing
Tennis”). Her first summer with Dr. Johnson, Gibson won singles
championships in all nine of the tournaments she entered, as well as eight mixed
doubles championships while partnered with Dr. Johnson. Her biggest prize was
the ATA women’s singles national title, which she would win for ten years
straight beginning in 1947. Gibson’s self-assessment was quite accurate: “I was
the best woman player in Negro tennis” (Gibson, 48-51). Gibson herself credited
the ATA for giving her the opportunity to succeed, saying in its yearbook:
“That first break for me came when the ATA took an interest in me…” (“Playing
Tennis”).

By now Gibson wanted to go to
college. She applied to a number of traditionally black colleges, hoping that
her success in the tennis world would earn her a scholarship. Florida A & M
in Tallahassee awarded the young athlete a tennis and
basketball scholarship. She entered the college at the age of 22, graduating
three years later in 1953 (“Playing Tennis;” Hajela; Spear; “Transition;” “This
Week in Black History,” July 6, 1998; “This Week in Black History,” July 28,
2003; Gibson). Although older than the other students, she pledged a sorority
and enjoyed college life. During this period, she continued to play in ATA
events and to win. She was also beginning to get her foot in the door and play
in events in the white tennis world, playing in the Eastern Indoor
Championships and the National Indoors Championship in 1949. By doing so she
became the second African-American and the first African-American woman to play
in the latter event. But she did not win either of these US Lawn Tennis
Association (USLTA) events, nor did her success through the quarter-final level
immediately open any doors for her. While her fellow players were more than
cordial, the powers in the tennis world were still reluctant to include her.
Although she hoped for an invitation to the major outdoor tournaments, none
were forthcoming. However, the press was beginning to notice, and they were
asking why Althea Gibson was excluded (Gibson, 55; 60-62).

By the 1950s the white sports
world was beginning to open its doors to black athletes. Jackie Robinson and Larry Doby had integrated
professional baseball in 1947. The USLTA had also been forced to crack the door
open in 1947 when Oscar Johnson, the ATA junior champion, indicated that he
would sue in court if they did not allow him to play in the national indoor
juniors tournament. He lost that year, but won the tournament in 1948. Dr.
Johnson and Dr. Eaton had been pressuring the USLTA to allow Althea to play in
their tournaments. Public opinion was beginning to shift in favor of allowing
black athletes to play on the traditionally white circuits.

In July of 1950, American
Lawn Tennis Magazine published an editorial by tennis champ Alice Marble,
urging the tennis world to give Althea Gibson the opportunity to play in its
tournaments. Some years earlier, Gibson had seen Marble play and admired her
skill. Now she had another reason to admire her. Although Marble’s editorial
stirred the pot, Gibson was turned down when she requested an invitation to a
USLTA sanctioned state tournament in New Jersey. But
perhaps as a result of Marble’s editorial, Gibson soon had the opportunity to
play in the Eastern Grass Court Championships, a major tournament. If she
played well, she would be invited to the US National at Forest
Hills, NY. Gibson lost in the second round. Next, she played in the
National Clay Courts Championships, where she reached the quarter-finals
(Gibson, 66-67). The USLTA then invited Althea Gibson to play in the 1950 US
National, the US Open. Later, Gibson wrote of the pressure and the stress of
playing on such hallowed ground. Despite the media attention, Gibson had to
play on the court that was furthest from the clubhouse and with the fewest
seats in the gallery. It was never clear if this was deliberate discrimination
or simply chance. After all, movie star Ginger Rogers, who was playing mixed
doubles and was certainly a bigger draw if not a serious tennis contender, had
the prime spot, a court by the clubhouse (Gibson, 71). Gibson was defeated in
the second round of the tournament (“Grand Slam”). But Althea Gibson
would take her place in history, along with other African-Americans who were
“first” to break down a barrier. And she would go on to win major tournaments.

In 1950, Gibson thus became
the first African-American to play tennis at the US Nationals at Forest
Hills, NY. In 1951 she became the first African-American to play at Wimbledon
in England. She had begun her climb to the top
of the tennis world. Gibson would ultimately win a total of 56 tournaments in
her tennis career, including five Grand Slam singles titles (Hajela).

Success would come slowly to
Althea Gibson. In the early 1950s, she continued to win the ATA tournaments,
but did not do well in USLTA events. Ranked number 9 in 1952 and number 7 in
1953, her ranking dropped to 13 in 1954. Gibson continued to work on her game.
At the suggestion of Sydney Llewellyn, a Harlem tennis instructor,
she changed her swing and spent hours practicing on the court, but did not
immediately achieve the hoped for results.

It is impossible to know
whether Gibson failed to win these early tournaments because she did not play
as well as other competitors, or whether she was at least in part, a victim of
discrimination. As an African-American, Gibson had to face prejudice on as well
as off the court. When she played in USLTA-sanctioned events, referees called
her for her mistakes, or faults, while letting the white players get by.
Sometimes when she was scheduled to play in an event, it would be cancelled,
and she would not have the opportunity to play against strong competitors and
get the kind of experience she needed. Ostensibly, the matches would be
cancelled because there were not enough players or enough of an audience
(Obley).

In the meantime, Gibson needed
a paying job. After graduating from college, she took a teaching position at Lincoln
University in Missouri in the physical
education department. She taught there for two years, in 1954 and 1955, but the
salary was low. Gibson did not want to stay in Missouri.
The pace of life was too slow and as an African-American, she had to endure
segregation. Frustrated by her inability to win, Gibson considered giving up
tennis. She almost enlisted in the Army in 1955 at the behest of a boyfriend
who served in the military. Experiencing a crisis of confidence, she returned
to Harlem after the school year ended in 1955, still thinking about
the Army. Fortunately for the tennis world, her coach persuaded her to
reconsider and a tennis official offered her the opportunity to join a State
Department-sponsored team that would travel to Southeast Asia to
play. She accepted immediately. It was a chance to see another part of
the world and to play tennis in countries like India,
Pakistan, and Burma.
Gibson later wrote that she thought she was selected for the team because of
her skin color, not her tennis skills. Race relations were poor in the US,
and people around the world had read horror stories about such events as the
murder of Emmett Till. As the only African-American in the group, Gibson
attracted a great deal of attention on the tour. As expected, she was asked
many questions about race relations in the US.
Her response was simply to say “…we’ve got a problem…but it’s a problem that
certainly can be solved, and that I firmly believe will be solved” (Hajela;
Gibson, 83-84; 88-102). As Gibson acknowledged, she was somewhat apolitical.
Although she was a firm believer in civil rights, she was not interested in
carrying a banner for the cause. Mostly she was interested in winning and in
being the best at whatever she tried.

After the tour ended in 1956,
Gibson headed for Europe and to Egypt
to play in tournaments. She won 16 of the 18 tournaments she played outside of
the US. She did not, as she had hoped, win
the Wimbledon singles that year (Gibson, 109-112). But success was
within her grasp and she was beginning to chalk up a list of
accomplishments. In that same year she won the Wimbledon doubles title,
paired with Angela Buxton. As a white woman and a Jew, Buxton had also
experienced discrimination. She and Gibson became friends. Gibson would room
with an injured but supportive Buxton the following year, finally winning the
singles title at Wimbledon (“This Week in Black History” July 6, 1998).

Gibson’s tennis career would
peak in the mid to late 1950s, in the years just before and just after her 30th
birthday. In 1956 Gibson won her first “major,” the French Open. She was the
first African-American to win that title (Bamberger; “Arthur Ashe…”). Those
who watched her play in this and other tournaments were impressed by her
strength and by her ability. Sports Illustrated said of her: “She moves
rangily around the court like a slightly awkward panther…” At the age of 13,
future tennis champion Billie Jean King watched Gibson play. She later
remembered that day, saying: “My heart was pounding…I thought…I hope I can play
like that someday” (Ballard).

Gibson did not win the 1956 US
Open, losing in the finals. Although Gibson was under a great deal of pressure
because of the media attention, she refused to blame anyone but herself for her
loss. She was beginning to believe that she was good enough to win. Meanwhile,
other tournaments from around the world sent her invitations to play tennis.
She was subsequently invited to play in the Pacific Southwest Championships in Los
Angeles, winning that tournament, and then accepted an invitation from the
Australian Lawn Tennis Association to play in a series of tournaments and
exhibitions there. She won two and lost two of the major competitions against
fellow American Shirley Fry, who had beaten her at both Wimbledon
and Forest Hills. Gibson blamed her losses on her lack of
consistency. Next Gibson headed back to Asia to defend her title
there, winning once again (Gibson, 118-121;125).

Gibson was finally ready to
dominate the game. The next two years would be banner years for her. She won
the Wimbledon singles and doubles titles in both 1957and 1958, as
well as the US Nationals. The Associated Press named her Female Athlete of the
Year both years (Ballard; Hajela; Soukup). Reminiscing about her 1957 Wimbledon
singles win, she said “…I felt all along that it was my day.” Friends later
told her that after the win, she screamed “At last! At last!” (Gibson,133). The
British were not sure what to make of her and were merely polite, but Americans
were far more enthusiastic. After her 1957 win at Wimbledon, Americans
greeted her with a ticker-tape parade
upon her return to New York (Bamberger). No other
African-American woman would reach the finals at Wimbledon until
1990, when Zina Garrison would play there. No other African-American woman
would win at Wimbledon until 2000, when Venus Williams swept the
tennis world.

While the tennis world
recognized her talent, even if reluctantly, Gibson remained a victim of the
same kinds of discrimination experienced by all African-Americans, no matter
how famous. Travel was difficult for African-Americans in the 1950s. Public
accommodations were segregated. Some hotels would not admit her as a guest,
even as she became a rising tennis star. When supporters wanted to hold a
luncheon to recognize her, one hotel turned them down (Chua-Eoan). Such
discrimination would not become illegal until Congress passed the Civil Rights
Act of 1964. Despite this Gibson did not become bitter. She simply took the
attitude that such policies, while foolish, were not important. In her
autobiography, she commented “Maybe I can’t stay overnight at a good hotel in
Columbia, South Carolina, or play a tennis match against a white opponent in
the sovereign state of Louisiana, which has a law against such a social
outrage, but I can get along without sleeping at the Wade Hampton and I don’t
care if I never set foot in Louisiana. There is, I have found out, a whole lot
of world outside Louisiana – and that goes for South Carolina, Mississippi,
Georgia, Alabama, and all the other places where they haven’t got the message
yet…” (Gibson, 157). She simply went about her life, continuing to tour
and continuing to play.

Tennis did not make Gibson
rich. From the beginning, she had to depend on others to help her cover her
expenses. Boxer Joe Lewis bought her a plane ticket for her first Wimbledon
tournament, and other friends helped her out over the years (Ballard). When she
retired, she had virtually no savings or investments at all after her many
years as a player. As an amateur, she was unable to capitalize on her fame. The
US Lawn Tennis Association provided some money for expenses, but little was left
over. Although Gibson lived frugally, she had had to depend on the largesse of
friends for years, and she wanted to be self-sufficient. As she said to those
who wondered why she was retiring from amateur tennis, “Being a champ is all
well and good, but you can’t eat a crown…I may be the Queen of Tennis right
now, but I reign over an empty bank account…” (Gibson and Curtis,15). In 1958
she turned professional, but by this time, she was already 30, an age at which
athletes are often considered past their peak. That year, Gibson also wrote her
autobiography, I Always Wanted to Be Somebody, a poignant title that
perhaps summarizes well her hopes and dreams. In those days little prize money
was available for women’s sports, and as an African-American, Gibson had no
opportunities to make money by selling her name and face for advertisements.
Gibson continued to play tennis but soon retired from the sport. It would be
another ten years before major tournaments would begin to pay professional
tennis players (Hajela). Women players would have to wait even longer in order
to be able to earn a good living at the sport.

After retiring from tennis,
Gibson turned to another venue that was close to her heart. She liked to sing,
and had won a prize in an amateur singing contest as a teenager in 1943. In the
years after, as she noted “I was never without a song on my lips” (Gibson and
Curtis, 22). During her years playing amateur tennis she had often been asked
to sing before the crowds. In 1957, she began to work with a voice coach,
but juggling her voice lessons with playing tennis was difficult. A record
company official who heard her sing at a testimonial dinner asked her to record
an album. Although it seemed that her career had taken a new direction,
luck was not on her side. She had little time to work on the songs, and came
down with the flu shortly before her scheduled recording date. All the songs
would be recorded in one session. As she notes, “…conditions were far from
ideal” (Gibson and Curtis, 31). The album was released in 1958. She was
subsequently asked to appear on the Ed Sullivan show and sing. Although she
received mixed reviews from the critics, Sullivan asked her to return a second
time and to sing another song. Despite the popularity of the Ed Sullivan show,
her album did not sell well. However, by this time Gibson was on her way to
what she hoped would be a Hollywood career. Although she had no
training as an actress, Gibson had obtained a small role in a John Wayne film
entitled The Horse Soldiers. Few roles were available for
African-Americans and stereotyping was rampant. She would play the part of a
maid in the Civil War era film. Gibson had to fight to have some of the most
objectionable dialect removed from her character’s speech. The film was
released in 1959, but it did not lead to other movie offers.

Despite that disappointment,
other doors were opening. Gibson would have the opportunity to earn a good
salary as part of an opening act for the Harlem Globetrotters, the popular
entertainers who played their own version of basketball before crowds all over
the world. Gibson was becoming a businesswoman, forming a corporation that
would negotiate a figure of more than $80,000 for the first year’s tour. While
much of the money would go to cover expenses, it was still, in Gibson’s words,
“a breathtaking sum…” (Gibson and Curtis, 51). She might even be able to save some
money. Gibson would play tennis with another tennis player before each game or
during the halftime period.

She asked an old friend and
competitor, Karol Fageros, to join her in that role. In late 1959, they began
an exhausting tour that stretched from one end of the nation to the other. When
the tour ended in April of 1960, Gibson had salted away enough money to make a
down payment on a house for her family, and had attracted the interest of Ward
Baking Company. For the next five years, she would earn $25,000 a year by
making speeches about her life experiences at civic functions all around the
country under Ward’s sponsorship, fitting these events into her schedule.
The Globetrotters asked Gibson to join them on their international tour, but she
turned them down. Gibson hoped she could earn even more money with her own
basketball-tennis tour. As she laid her plans, she donated her time for free
tennis clinics and played in a professional tournament in Cleveland.
Despite her win, the purse barely covered her expenses. It would not be
possible to make a living by going that route. In her own words, “I began to
lose interest in tennis” (Gibson and Curtis, 77). But she had committed herself
to a national tennis-basketball tour. It was to prove a financial disaster.
Without the draw of the Harlem Globetrotters, audiences showed little interest,
and the tour lost a great deal of money. Althea Gibson was broke.

During the next several years,
which she described as “the lowest moment of my career” (Gibson and Curtis,
96), Gibson traveled extensively for Ward Baking Company, making numerous
public appearances. She began to save money and pay back the money she owed.
She no longer wished to play tennis, but she needed a physical outlet. Her
thoughts began to turn to golf and to new challenges. Gibson had enjoyed
playing golf for many years. As she noted in her autobiography, she had thought
about a professional career in golf as early as 1958. A fine athlete who
excelled at many sports, she could drive a golf ball well over 200 yards down
the fairway. Gibson had never had any formal training in golf, but many
observers had noted her natural ability. Although she was already in her early
30s, she might be able to play this game and to win. She persuaded her sponsor,
Ward Baking Company, to continue to provide support so that she could take
lessons and practice, although she would have to do this at public courses.
Most private courses did not allow African-Americans to join or to play. Many
also did not allow women of any race on the links.

Thus, in 1961 Gibson took up
golf and began to work toward earning her player’s card so that she could
compete in professional tournaments and be eligible to win money. She practiced
on public courses that were often crowded, and often had to play with
strangers. She worked hard but found a kind of peace in the rhythm of the game.
It was almost a religious experience for her. But playing golf was
expensive, even on public courses. Ward Baking Company was her main source of
income, and would continue to be so until the company terminated the contract
in 1965. Finally, Jerry Volpe, who was both owner and pro at the Englewood Golf
Club and who thought Gibson had potential, gave her an honorary membership in
his club. This freed her from some of the financial pressures. She was the only
African-American to hold a membership there at that time (Gibson and Curtis,
107-112). Gibson was finding that her years of tennis adversely affected her
swing. For example, she tended to hook the ball, curving the ball to the left.
Her putting game also needed a lot of work. Finally, she felt she was ready.
She played in a few amateur tournaments before playing in her first
professional tournament at Kenwood Country Club in Cincinnati,
Ohio. Thus, she was to break yet another barrier by becoming the
first African-American to play on the LPGA tour.

Gibson had notified the Ladies
Professional Golf Association (LPGA) of her intention to play golf as a
professional. Now she had to compete. She would have to score in the top 80% in
three out of four successive LPGA tournaments in order to win the coveted
player’s card. Gibson did not play well enough in 1963 to win her player’s
card. But she continued to work on her game, and played well enough win the
card in 1964. However, it was not all smooth sailing even from that point on.
Just as in her tennis playing days, she sometimes experienced discrimination.
At some clubs, she was allowed to play on the course but not permitted to use
the facilities at the clubhouse. Once she had her player’s card, she felt that
she was in a position to complain to the LPGA. In her autobiography, she notes
that on more than one occasion, a club that had humiliated her in this manner
subsequently lost its LPGA tournament. Whether her complaints were the sole
cause is impossible to say (Gibson and Curtis, 134-136).

Although she did not win and
made little money, she played in 171 tournaments between 1963 and 1977. Bob
Botsch, an avid golfer (and co-editor of this web page) saw her play in an LPGA
tournament in Winchester, Virginia around 1969.
“The crowd afforded her the greatest respect. Many realized that they were
seeing a legend in action. They were not disappointed. Her power and grace on
the tennis court carried over to her golf swing. She strode the course like the
world class athlete she was and pounded the ball far beyond most of her
competitors” (Botsch).

As Gibson approached the end
of her professional career, she began to contribute in other ways to the world
of sports. She taught tennis clinics and gave lectures about physical fitness
(“Teeing it up”). Winning had always been important to Gibson, and she would
tell young players to “focus on what you’re supposed to do, not what’s around
you.” She encouraged young players who were beginning to play professional
tennis to think big. Leslie Allen, who won many tournaments during her
career, noted that Gibson urged her and others to focus on winning tournaments.
“It changed my whole mindset” she said (Amdur).

With her friend Frances
Clayton Gray, Gibson founded an organization to help young people who wanted to
play tennis or golf, the Althea
Gibson Foundation (Strunsky; Obley). She was appointed as New
Jersey’s State Commissioner of Athletics in 1975 and held this position for the
next ten years. Subsequently, she was appointed to the state’s athletics
control board, serving on that body until 1988. She was also appointed to the
governor’s council on physical fitness, serving until 1992 (“First Black Tennis
Champion”). After her retirement, Gibson continued to play golf for
recreation and sometimes scored in the low 70s. She unsuccessfully attempted a
comeback in 1990 at the age of 63. Although no doubt money was a factor, at
heart Gibson was always simply an athlete who enjoyed competition. As her
manager said at the time: “She loves golf…” (“Teeing it up”).

Although recognition was late
in coming, Althea Gibson received a number of honors in her lifetime, as well
as some that were posthumous. In 1971 Gibson was inducted into the International
Tennis Hall of Fame. In 1988 Gibson gave her Wimbledon trophies
to the Smithsonian Museum in Washington,
DC (Hajela). In 1994 she was one of seven South Carolinians included
in a special exhibit of photographs of 75 African-American women entitled “I
Dream a World” displayed at the State Museum in Columbia (Smith Brinson).
In 1997, on her 70th birthday, she was recognized at the
dedication of the Arthur Ashe Stadium in New York City, although
by then she was too sick to attend in person (“This Week” July
6, 1998; “Arthur Ashe”). Along with other prominent and representative South
Carolina African-Americans, her likeness was included on the African-American
monument that has stood on the grounds of the State House in Columbia
since 2001. In 2002 she was inducted into the National
Women’s Hall of Fame in Seneca Falls, New
York, one of only a handful of South Carolinians to receive that
honor (Moulton). In April 2002, Clarendon County
named the road that ran through Gibson’s native Silver and the Manning tennis
center for her. Many relatives came for the ceremony, but Gibson could not
attend. Fran Gray noted that Gibson had liked working with young people, and
felt that this was “marvelous” (Spear). Although Gibson was ill during the last
part of her life, she worked with Frances Clayton Gray and Yanick Rice Lamb on
one final book, Born to Win: The Althea Gibson Story. As of this
writing, it was scheduled to be published in 2004 (Hajela). In 2004 the SC chapter of the NAACP honored
her posthumously by naming its new Palmetto Student Athletic and Scholastic
Achievement Awards for her (NAACP).

With little time for anything
but athletic competition, Gibson did not marry until she was in her thirties.
She was married twice and had no children (“First Black Tennis Champion”).
Sadly, she had no immediate family to be with her in her final years, when she
lived in East Orange, NJ. She died of
respiratory failure in a hospital there on September
28, 2003. She was 76 and had been in declining health for some time, having
previously suffered several strokes (Abel; Ballard; Barovik). Gibson was
reduced to living on Social Security and kept to herself for most of her last
twenty years of life. She did not want others to see her sick and living in
reduced circumstances, although fans raised money to help her when they heard
about her situation. She was unwilling to allow even close friends to visit
(Hajela; Nichols). She refused to grant interviews, fearing that the media and
the public would simply feel sorry for her. As Fran Gray commented, “She wanted
to live out the rest of her days with dignity.” Perhaps, as Gray noted, it was
really her depression that killed her (Obley). Despite all that she had done,
Gibson was not a household name at the time of her death. To young people, she
was barely a memory of a time they could not fathom.

At a memorial service held at
a Newark, NJ church, David Dinkins, former mayor of New York, summed up
Gibson’s contributions, saying “A lot of folks stood on her shoulders…I’m not
just talking about black folks, but many others who were inspired by what she
achieved.” Zina Garrison, who in 1990 became the first African-American
finalist at Wimbledon since Gibson, agreed, saying “You broke down
the doors for me and so many others” (Strunsky; Hajela). Told about
Gibson’s death, tennis champion Venus Williams said: “I am grateful to Althea
Gibson for having the strength and courage to break through the racial barriers
in tennis…Her accomplishments set the stage for my success …” (“First Black
tennis”).

In a commemorative article
written after her death, a Sports Illustrated writer noted “Gibson had a
huge serve and at five foot eleven inches, extraordinary reach” (Ballard). Tony
Trabert, who played tennis around the same time as Gibson, noted that she
played as hard as she could and was not afraid to take chances. “She hits the
ball and plays like a man” Trabert said, strong praise from a player of that
generation (Amdur). It is hard to say what heights Althea Gibson might
have achieved if doors had been opened to her at a younger age.

*Gibson states in her first
autobiography, I Always Wanted to Be Somebody, that she was born on
August 25, as do some accounts of her life. Others state that her date of birth
was April 25.